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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26445088">Pieces of my Broken Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaQueenofDemons/pseuds/ReinaQueenofDemons'>ReinaQueenofDemons</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Belts, Blood and Injury, Corporal Punishment, Crying, Dark, Gags, Graphic Description, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Spanking, Pain, Painful Sex, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Punishment, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Rough Sex, Suicide Attempt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:41:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26445088</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaQueenofDemons/pseuds/ReinaQueenofDemons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier almost gets himself killed, and Geralt takes his belt to him for it. As part of his punishment he has to stay at camp while Geralt finishes his contract. Geralt thought he would be safe. He thought wrong.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>243</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Mistakes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Jaskier!" </p><p>The damn bard was standing too close to the shoreline. Too close to the water. Too close to the claws of the kikimora. Geralt barely severed the leg off the creature in time before it ripped open the bard's stomach. Black blood splayed across Jaskier's shirt and he tumbled down to the watery gravel. </p><p>"Get your fucking idiot arse out of here!" The Witcher roared, his normally golden eyes were black as midnight and his skin was translucent pale, like a twisted undead creature. His roar was venomous and the Bard hurried to his feet, tripping over himself as he scrambled through the mud to the treeline above. He almost made it. </p><p>The kikimora struckout with remaining limbs, one trashing Geralt under the water, the other swiped as Jaskier's legs, curling around him as it plucked him from the mud. "Geralt!" The Bard's cry was shrieking and pitiful, full of fear that just encouraged the kikimora. As it brought the struggling bard closer to it's gaping mouth, it suddenly found itself choking on the silver blade of the Witcher instead. </p><p>Geralt hissed as he stabbed silver further down the monster's throat before pulling the blade back. The monster lowered it's head and Geralt stabbed his sword into the top of it's head to finish it off. Jaskier fell into the swallow water when the kikimora released him from his grip and came up coughing and sputtering. Geralt spat into the water, wiping black blood from his face. He reached into the water and pulled Jaskier up by the back of his shirt, and hauled him unto the muddy shore.</p><p>"G-Geralt?" The Bard coughed. He found his feet but the Witcher did not release him. Not until they reached the treeline and Geralt hurled him into a tree. "Ouch." The Bard muttered as his back hit the back of the tree roughly. </p><p>"How many fucking times have I told you to STAY BACK?" Geralt yelled, his black eyes making him look far more fierce and angry than Jaskier was used to. He felt himself tremble, both from the wet cold and the Witcher's gaze. "You don't fucking know how close to death you came do you?" A strong hand gripped the back of Jaskier's shirt and hauled him forward. The bard whimpered as Geralt roughly dragged him into the path through the trees, to where Roach was tied. "Get up!" Geralt screamed into his face. Jaskier trembled again, but obeyed, climbing unto Roach's back. Geralt untied her and she butted him under the chin, but he batted her away. A testiment to his anger. </p><p>They walked in silence back to camp. The very second Jaskier tried to make a sound, the Witcher turned on him, and those haunting black eyes shut him up immediately. The Witcher's anger was palpable in the air, rolling off him in thick waves, even as the potion bled away from his eyes and his skin. By the time they reached camp, his golden glare was back and it was fixed on Jaskier. "Get...down." He hissed, spitting through clentched teeth. Jaskier whimpered a little as he swung down from the saddle. </p><p>"Geralt...I...I'm sorry." He confessed. He gulped as Geralt closed the space between them, staring him down. "I'm really sorry." He could feel how angry the Witcher was just from the heat collecting around him. </p><p>"You will be." The Witcher's voice was dangerously low, and Jaskier had only ever heard him use that tone on people he intended to kill. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. His damp clothes seemed to make him feel worse.</p><p>Geralt turned away from him long enough to re-tie Roach and put his swords to the side. When he turned back to the Bard he unstrapped his armour, letting it fall to the ground. That was Jaskier's first clue that he was in serious trouble with the Witcher. Geralt was meticulous with his armour. He took a step back in fear, still trying to warm himself with his hands. "G-Geralt...I...I really am sorry. Ok-please let's just get a-a-a fire going and some dry clothes. We can...talk about-what are you doing?" His armour stripped Geralt's hands now went to his belt, which he made quick work of undoing. Jaskier's eyes widened in realization and he took two more quick steps back. "Geralt, no! Wait." </p><p>The Witcher needed only one long stride to catch the Bard by the shirt. He wrenched him closer and shoved him backwards over the nearby log. "Ow." Jaskier whimpered as he hit the log hard. Geralt was behind him in an instant. He heard the rasp of the leather before he felt the seering pain that striped his arse. He cried out, only to be hit again in nearly the same place. The third and fourth strokes bit his thighs. "Geralt stop! Enough-OW-STOP!" Tears started to stream down his face before he could stop them. He sobbed loudly with the lash that hit him firmly across his arse. </p><p>Geralt hissed and then reached out, wretching the Bard's trousers down to his thighs. "No! No! Please! No. Geralt, don't. Don't!" Jaskier begged and then cried when the belt hit him three times in rapid succession across his bare arsecheeks. Pale skin grew red and raw with the next lash that hit almost perfectly against the previous three. "STOP!" The bard begged again. "I'm sorry. OW!" He howled when Geralt adjusted his angle to hit him under the swell of his arse. He landed a second blow there and pulled back. Jaskier sniffed, wiping his eyes. He whimpered as he heard Geralt spit and then move closer. </p><p>"Get yourself together, Bard." The Witcher hissed. Jaskier looked over his shoulder and saw him putting his belt back on. "Make yourself useful and get a fire going." He picked up his armour and set it aside. His swords he strapped to his back. </p><p>Jaskier wiped his eyes a few more times and pulled up his damp trousers. "Where are you going?" He asked quietly, voice shaking. </p><p>"To get the kikimora's head and collect my coin before someone else claims it." Geralt spat as he swung up onto the saddle. "You are staying the fuck here." He gestured pointedly. "Next time I fucking won't stop at 10." He urged Roach around and rode off. </p><p>He pushed away the throbbing prick of guilt he felt at what he had just done. The bard had been told multiple times to stay where it was safe. He had been warned and yet he still put his own fucking life in danger. Geralt could not have lived with himself had the Bard been hurt or killed. Let him hate him for taking the belt to him. Ten lashes was nothing in the face of possible death or dismemberment. Still, he resolved to rub chamomile on the Bard's arse when he returned. His anger was beginning to fade, and the feeling of...fear at losing Jaskier was lessening.   </p><p>The smell of blood greeted the Witcher as he neared the camp as few hours later. "The fuck?" He swore. His senses began to swarm to attention. He urged Roach to go faster, and faster still when bile joined the scent of blood. He saw the puffs of smoke rising in the air and heard voices he didnt recognize. They were laughing. "Fuck!" He dug his heels into Roach and rode her hard. As soon as their camp was in view he was out of the saddle, steel drawn. </p><p>There were two of them. Burly, bald headed, with thick beards and stained clothes. They stunk of piss, meat, blood, and cum. One of them was holding Jaskier down on the muddy ground, naked on his belly. The bard trembled but struggle had long been beated out of him. There was a belt wrapped tightly around his wrists, binding them. The other man held an iron rod, fire red at one end. Geralt wasnt about to wait to discover if he intended to brand the Bard or rape him with it. "Get the fuck away from my Bard!" He yelled as he stalked forward. </p><p>"Shit it's the Witcher!" The one holding Jaskier muttered. </p><p>The other man turned and brandished the iron rod like a weapon. It was little match for the Witcher's steel. "The prick deserved it!" The man spat, as Geralt grabbed onto him and ran his steel into his belly. </p><p>The second man got up and drew a dagger. He yelled out and attacked the Witcher. Geralt tore his sword back, spilling the intestines out of the first man and spinning his blade around to cleave the second's skull in half. He spat on the bodies, stepping over them as he approached Jaskier.</p><p>"Jaskier." He kept his tone as soft as he could as he knelt down behind the bard. He gritted his teeth at the blood painting his arse and thighs. He was already beginning to bruise across his back, he could see the shape of leather, wider than his own belt and the wounds cut deeper, bleeding at the edges, further down his skin was striped purple at his arse, under the blood. "Fuck." He undid the belt at his wrists and touched the Bard's shoulder, rolling him just enough to see his face. </p><p>"Please no more." Jaskier was crying, his face dirty and eyes bruised, squeezed shut. He couldn't help but see the spend on the corners of his swollen lips. He shook in Geralt's grip. </p><p>"Jask...it's me. It's Geralt." His tone was even as he surpressed his rage. He should have cut their cocks off and fed them to them. "Open your eyes, Dandelion." </p><p>Pained eyes did open, but he flinched. "G...Geralt. I'm sorry!" He wailed. "Please don't hurt me." The Bard's words broke the Witcher's untouchable heart. In an instant he pulled the wounded man into his arms and held him against his chest. Jaskier sobbed unto his shirt, whimpering nonsense. He let him go on like that for several moments, not wanting to touch him too much for fear of irritating the wounds. </p><p>"Jask...do you want a healer?" </p><p>"No! No! Please!" Fresh tears spilled forth. "Please no." </p><p>"Shh." He muttered. He touched an unmarred patch of skin near the bard's shoulder. "Alright. I'll do it." Jaskier looked up at that, fresh tears falling. Geralt wiped them away with his thumb. "Shh. I need to know what they did to you." </p><p>"You can already see what they did to me!" Jaskier wailed. "Look at me." He whimpered. He gestured to his skin and Geralt hesitantly looked him up and down. There were bruises on his neck that took the shape of handprints. He had similar bruises on his hips and thighs. His wrists were rubbed raw from the belt. He tried not to let his gaze linger on the bloody bites around his cock and the bruises on his bollocks. "They should have killed me. YOU should kill me. It would be a kindness." </p><p>"No. Jask, no." Geralt hesitantly held the Bard closer. "You're going to fine. I'm going to help you." Jaskier sobbed all over again for a few more minutes. Then he hiccupped and nodded. "Let's get out of the mud, hmm?" </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Ministrations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wrapping one arm around his shoulders, Geralt picked the bard up and moved him over to the dry bedroll. He laid him down gently unto his side and then picked up the dirty bedroll and cast it into the fire. Jaskier grunted in approval. "I'm just going to get the bags and bring them over." Geralt made sure he was within Jaskier's line of sight. He didn't touch him and he moved slowly and methodically so that he could follow his movements. </p><p>He grabbed his saddle bags and brought them over, setting them again within Jaskier's sight. This was not going to be pleasant and it was not going to be quick. Emptying one of the saddle bags completely he folded the straps under it and gestured to Jaskier that he was going to place it under his head. The bard nodded silently and Geralt leaned forward, he kept his touch light as he lifted Jaskier's neck and placed the saddle bag judt under his head. It wasnt the softest thing in the world, but it would do. Jaskier collapsed unto it with a pained grunt. </p><p>"I'm going to have to go and refill the wineskins in the river, but I'll boil what we have now." He explained, taking out their cooking pot and filling it with the water. He put it into the fire as he unpacked the second set of saddle bags. He took out his extra shirt and shreded it with his knife so that he had something to clean the Bard's skin with that wasnt their stock of bandages. </p><p>"A bath?" Jaskier squeaked softly. Geralt raised an eyebrow. "Not...a proper one obviously." </p><p>"Later, tomorrow, when we go into town." The Witcher promised. He cast Igni to warm the water faster and dipped one of the shredded pieces of cloth into it. "I'm going to start at your face and work down." He looked in the bard's eyes when he said this. "Before I do anything I will look into your eyes first, understand?" Jaskier nodded. "Good. Did they bash your skull at all?" A slight nod had Geralt paying more attention to the bard's eyes. He didn't appear to have a concussion, but he could smell that the bard had thrown up before he arrived. "I dont think you have a concussion, but I'm going to wake up every couple hours tonight to be sure." Jaskier wasn't convinced he'd be able to sleep anyway. </p><p>He gently cleaned around the bard's eyes before he wiped the dried blood and spend from his lips and chin. The cloth was quickly returned to the water and he let it linger there while he brought out rosemary and chamomile oil. "Close your eyes." He rubbed the oil on abd around Jaskier's bruised eyes. The bard winced. "I know. If you need me to stop, tell me." He picked up the clothe again and moved to the bard's neck. "Your bruises will just need oil, but there are open welts on your back and wrists that will need to be dressed. I'll have to make a paste for...the worst of it." He pushes on Jaskier lightly, so the he's laying on his back. Jaskier cringes and winced and writhes a little. "I know." He soothes, rubbing the oil into the bard's neck.  </p><p>He goes through the first bottle of oil on Jaskier's hips and the front of his thighs. He focuses just on the front of him first, where the wounds are less severe. Even so Jaskier moans and writhes and cries when Geralt touches him, but doesnt ask him to stop. He spreads paste on the bard's wrists, where his struggling against the restraints rubbed the skin raw and bandages them securely. It's not lost on him that the bandages make it appear that Jaskier slit his wrists and he tries to shake the image from his mind. </p><p>"I've got to touch you here now." He gestures to Jaskier's cock and bollocks. The bites will paste so they dont get infected and I want to see how bad the bruise is." </p><p>Jaskier lets new tears fall down his cheeks. "Please be careful." He mutters, his bottom lip trembles. Geralt leans forward, his face close to the Bard's. "Whhhat are you-oh." The bard breathes out when Geralt places a soft, chaste kiss on his forehead. </p><p>"Is that alright?" The Witcher whispers. Jaskier nods. "Ok then. I'm starting now." He dips his thumb and index finger into the paste he's made, holds it for Jaskier to see and then grips the base of his cock. The bites are thankfully only at the base but Geralt winces in spite of himself. He can only imagine what Jaskier felt when that fucker chomped down on him like that. He hoped the Bard passed out, but Jaskier's quiet sobbing says different. He makes wide circles with his fingers, trying to coat the length of the bites as throughly and quickly as possible. "Done." He declares, moving up to look the bard in the eyes. "That part is all done." He makes no move under Jaskier nods. </p><p>He wipes off his fingers and picks up the oil again. "Do you want to hold yourself while I...look at the bruises?" Jaskier blinks and sniffs. His hand shakes as he reaches down and gently, tenatively moves his cock away from his bollocks. Geralt scans the abused flesh, seeing just one bruise near the center, in the shape of a thumb print. He glances up at Jaskier and finds him watching him. "Touching you now." He warns before he takes the sac in his hand. He lifts them up as gently as he can. He finds no more bruises, but there is so much dried blood the space between his bollocks and arsehole is covered in it.</p><p>The angle is the best to clean that area now and he steals a look at Jaskier's face. "I want to clean away some of the blood right here. I wont go near your arsehole, just this bit here. Okay?" More tears but Jaskier manages a nod. His hand that grips his cock is trembling violently so Geralt makes quick work of cleaning away the blood, wetting the rag and using his entire hand to clean the skin. He uses a clean strip to dry the area, then rubs oil on the bruise and takes his hands away. Jaskier's hand drops from his cock and he rolls to his side, sobbing against the saddlebag. </p><p>Geralt leans over and kisses his forehead again, trying not to let himself be overtaken with emotion. Jaskier's sobs break his heart, but he can't let it break his determination. "A break." He says. "I need to prepare more paste for the welts on your back." </p><p>He mixes the ingrediants while Jaskier's sobs quiet. "They saw..." The bard's voice shakes. "They saw and one of them said that it must mean I'm a bad boy and you don't punish me enough." </p><p>Geralt sucked his breath in sharply. "Forgive me." He looks over his shoulder at the bard. "I would never have...I was afraid I'd lose you." Jaskier's blue eyes were dim against the rims of purple bruises. More tears. He hated how much the bard had already cried. Hated more knowing there were plenty of tears to come. </p><p>Jaskier didn't say anything else. Geralt finished the paste and moved closer to the bard. "I'm going to move you unto your stomach." A small nod. Geralt carefully rolled him over. His back was a mess of purple and black and red. He poured the oil on his hands and rubbed circles into the abused flesh, avoiding the areas where the skin was split for now. Jaskier was growing quieter. "Jask...dont go to sleep." </p><p>"I'm not." He muttered. </p><p>"You're not crying." He said plainly, stopping his ministrations for a moment. </p><p>"F...feels good. Soothing." The bard's voice was small and hoarse. "Warm." It was growing colder and Jaskier was still naked. Geralt quickly got up and went to grab the extra blanket. "Geralt!" Shit. He forgot to say what he was doing. </p><p>"Fuck, forgive me. I just went to grab the extra blanket. Here." He laid it over the bard's legs. Jaskier's fingers immediately moved to clutch it. He fisted it so hard his knuckles began to turn white. "Not quite yet." Geralt whispered. "I've got to dress the cuts on your back." The bard's fingers relaxed a little. The Witcher leaned over and gripped his hand. "It's going to be alright." He soothed. </p><p>Once he dressed the cuts he sat back on his heels and sighed. Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut and quietly started to sob again. "Do you want a break, Jaskier?" The bard shook his head but continued to sob. The Witcher sighed again before collecting the oil and the paste. "I'm going to clean and rub oil into your arsecheeks first. Then your thighs. I'll examine your arsehole last." Jaskier coughed up another sob but he nodded. </p><p>Geralt dipped a cloth in warm water and laid the entirety over Jaskier's sore arse. The bard whimpered and struggled, the heat stinging his tender flesh. Geralt reached out and grabbed his hip, keeping his touch light. "I know. Stay still. This will help." He dunked a second cloth and laid it over the rest of his arse. It overlaped over the worst of the bruising. Another series of whimpers but Jaskier tried to stop moving even as his body trembled. After a few minutes Geralt moved the cloths down and used them to clean away the dried blood from the backs of his thighs. With the blood gone, he cast them aside and poured oil on his hands, rubbing it into the bruises that littered his flesh. Jaskier whimpered but did not protest, letting Geralt massage his muscles through the worst of the pain.</p><p>"Jask." The bard tensed back up immediately as Geralt took his hands away. The Witcher sighed. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to hurt the bard again, especially not in this way. But he had no choice. Jaskier needed this, and Jaskier needed him to be able to do this. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I'm just going to look, first, alright? I'm just looking." He leaned over the bard so he could see face. Jaskier brought his arms up and buried his face into them, but he nodded. Geralt reached down and use his thumbs to spread Jaskier apart. The bard sobbed but let his legs fall open. It looked about as bad as he was expecting. The muscle was torn, still bleeding sluggishly around the rim. He took a breath before speaking. "I...I think I'll have to go in twice." Jaskier sobbed out a no and trembled. "Hey, listen." He moved over so the bard could see him. "You're still bleeding, Jaskier. I need to feel what's going on inside. You've bled badly. I'm worried you might need stitches." </p><p>"No! No! No!" Jaskier screamed at that and tried to move away. Geralt caught him before he could roll over. "No please. Please don't do that to me." He sobbed harder than he had since the ministrations began. The very thought of having to hold himself open while Geralt poked him with a needle, THERE, made him sick. His stomach rolled over and he gagged. He wouldn't be able to do it. Which meant that Geralt would need to get someone else to help him. And stranger or friend, it made no difference, he could not deal with that. Would Geralt make him? Knock him out or tie him down? He sobbed even louder at the thought. "Please don't." He whimpered. "I'd rather you kill me."</p><p>"Jask." His voice was softer than he had ever heard it. "I need to check. You might not need them, but I need to be sure." He heaved a sob and buried his face in his arms again. This was not a choice and Geralt was not asking. What was there for him to do but nod and continue crying? He let his legs fall open again. All he could feel was THEM. On him, in him, filling him up, even as he cried and begged and bled. Everything inside him tensed when he felt Geralt's hand at his arsecheek. He spread him open and something warm and wet touched his crack. He jerked. "I'm just washing away the dried blood." came Geralt's voice, still soft and calm. He wiped his eyes, cringing as he touched the bruises on his face and laid his head back into his arms. The Witcher washed him throughly, but quickly. He heard the cork pop off a bottle of oil and couldn't help but cry out at the sound. "Shh. It will be okay." Geralt thumbed his lower back, in a space that didn't hurt so much. "It will be okay." he repeated, putting the tip of his finger against his rim.</p><p>He touched the rim and pushed inside just a fraction of the tip, feeling around the start of the muscle. He frowned as he touched the bleeding tear, it felt wide and deep. He pushed in a little more, keeping firm pressure on the tear as he followed it inside. He hoped each time he moved in deeper to find the end of it. Jaskier was impossibly tight, and he knew that even with oil this was hurting the bard. When he finally felt where the tear ended he was almost in to the second knuckle. He felt fresh blood coating his finger. The tear would need to be stitched, he decided. Jaskier was crying hard again, his whole body shaking with tremors. He quickly worked his finger around the muscle, feeling for other tears. He hissed when he felt two more, but they were small. Finally he pushed in deep.</p><p>"STOP STOP STOP!" The moment he touched Jaskier's prostate the bard seized up and screamed. He withdrew as quickly as he could without hurting him more and moved to look at him. Jaskier collapsed into a hard bought of sobbing and all Geralt could do was rub his shoulder and shush him. "Please no more." He begged. "Please."</p><p>Geralt hesitated. He thumbed the bard's lower back again and then finally met his gaze. "I need to stitch the tear. It's still bleeding, Jask. I'm worried you've lost too much blood already." The bard's face crumbled and he screamed, crying out of terror and pain that Geralt could only imagine. "Jaskier." He caught the bard into his arms. "Jaskier, I could knock you out if it would make it easier." The bard snapped his head violently from side to side. "Okay. I won't. You need to let me do this, though. I will stop whenever you say it, and I won't start again until you tell me to. Look at me. It will be okay. I promise you." The cornflower gaze, dull against bruising skin, looked so haunted and far away. "I'm so sorry." The Witcher muttered, letting his forehead drop against Jaskier's. He laid the bard back down on his stomach, letting Jaskier continue to cry as he readied a needle and thread. </p><p>"How many." Jaskier finally asked, voice hoarse from crying. He wasn't looking at Geralt at all, and after a moment he buried his face again into his arms.   </p><p>"Just four." Geralt replied, heating the needle with igni to sterilize it. "Then I'll put the salve in. And that will be the end of it tonight."</p><p>"Do I..." Jaskier coughed, he sounded like he was starting to cry all over again. "Have to hold myself?"</p><p>"No. I'd prefer you didn't." The Witcher answered honestly, moving behind him. "This is going to sting, Jask. But I swear to you, I swear it's going to be okay. I need you to trust me."</p><p>Silence for a long moment. "I do." The bard hiccuped. He took a breath and spread his legs apart.</p><p>"Good Jask. Stay just like that." Geralt's fingers spread his cheeks wide and dipped down, flush right against his rim, stretching the space open. "I'm going to do the deeper ones first. Take a breath and hold it." He barely felt the needle enter him, but when it touched his skin and he jerked, tensing as tears fell from his eyes. Geralt kept him still and open. After a moment he pressed the needle through and tied off the first stitch. It stung, burned and he sobbed into his arms. "Keep breathing, nice and easy, Jask." The Witcher demanded. He cried out the next time the needle pierced him and Geralt shushed him. "I know, bard. I know." He tied the second stitch and moved on to the third. This time there was no warning, just the prick of the needle, white hot sting, in and out. He cried harder, but he did not beg for the Witcher to stop. "Last one, Jask." He took another breathe and held it, whimpering loudly as Geralt stuck him for the final stitch. "Done. It's over, Jask. Just take one more deep breath for me." He felt the needle leave and a cold sensation touch him. Geralt spread his arse open one more time and shoved a finger coated in thick, cold paste inside. He smeared it around and then pulled out.</p><p>"It's done. It's over." The Witcher didn't add "for tonight" but the bard knew that's what he meant. He whimpered a little more as the Witcher wiped away his tears and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. "You did so well." He whispered. "So well. It's okay." he pulled the blanket up to his chin and settled in beside him.</p><p>He closed his eyes, but after a moment he muttered: "Not going to sleep?"</p><p>"No. I'm just going to sit here awhile." The Witcher stared into the fire.</p><p>"You're...going to watch over me?"</p><p>"Always."     </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Originally Jask wasn't getting stitches, but I accidentally deleted the last 1/3 of this chapter and had to rewrite it, so...Jask got stitches. Sorry/not sorry.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Maelstrom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier grew restless as the night wore on. He keened and shook, trembling violently as minutes past. Geralt mixed him decoction for pain, but it seemed to give him little relief. The trembling soon turned his stomach and the Bard began to vomit unless there was nothing left but to retch. The Witcher could only rub his back and whisper soothingly until his stomach muscles relaxed enough to cease the retching. </p><p>Jaskier collapsed unto his side and began to sob again. Geralt wrapped the blanket around him and began to brew another decoction, stronger this time with ginger root to ease the nausea and valerian to bring on sleep. "Geralt." The Bard sobbed his name and the Witcher turned his attention to him. He tried to speak but only managed choking sobs. Finally he brought shaking hands up to the Witcher. Geralt carefully settled himself down beside the Bard took him into his arms, letting him rest his head in his lap. He helped him drink the decoction and sat the bowl aside. </p><p>"Is it helping?" He asked after a few tense moments where Jaskier continued to sob. The Bard nodded his head just a little, wiping away his tears with a bandaged wrist. Geralt caught the wrist gently, checking to see if the wounds had bled through. Satified they had not he tucked the hands against his chest. "Then sleep, Dandelion. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." </p><p>"All I can feel is them." The Bard whimpered. Geralt tugged him a little closer. "Everything is pulsing. I can still feel them inside me." His heart rate was beginning to pound again and the endless tears stirred once more. </p><p>"You're here with me, Dandelion. The only one you feel is me." He leaned forward and kissed the top of the Bard's head. "It's just me. Sleep, Bard." The decoction began to take him, slowly his heart rate returned to normal and tence muscles finally relaxed. "I won't leave you." </p><p>"You should have just killed me!!!" Jaskier screamed before he began to sob again. It was early the next morning. Jaskier had woken in a cold sweat, screaming from nightmares, and needed to relieve himself. Just walking a short distance to a tree had required Geralt's help and the Bard leaned heavily against the bark. Touching his own cock was unbearable. It hurt and he could not bear the sensation without crying. "I can't even fucking piss." He mourned. </p><p>"Do..." The Witcher bit his lip, but decidedly went on. "Do you want my help?" The Bard's eyes flashed with fear and then pain. His full bladder was cramping now. Reluctantly he nodded and Geralt moved in close behind him. "I'm right here, Jask. It's just me." He said cautiously before he reached out. He held the sore cock with one hand, letting the other hold the Bard's hip to keep him steady. "Relax, Jaskier." He told him. The Bard whimpered but was finally able to release. Geralt hissed softly at the red stream that left his cock, but said nothing until Jaskier was finished. He pulled on him just a little to make sure that was all and then let his hands drop and he backed away. </p><p>"That's bad isnt it." Jaskier coughed up a sob as he leaned against the bark.</p><p>"You need a healer." Geralt said simply, knowing it was the last thing the Bard wanted to hear. "Or a Mage. I dont know if youre pissing blood because you're hurt or if infection is setting in. And...youre going to have to shit at some point. You need something that will make it bareable." </p><p>"I dont want to be poked at by a stranger." He whimpered. "I dont even know how I will stand you when you have to check the stitches and-and the paste." </p><p>Geralt sighed. "Could you bare my absence for a short while if I went to town and consulted the healer myself?" </p><p>Jaskier frowned. He leaned against the tree again, sniffling. "You want to leave me? Again?" </p><p>"No. I want to help you. I'll even leave you my swords." It was the only thing he could offer the Bard, knowing Jaskier couldnt and did not want to ride. </p><p>"Arent you worried I'll just skewer myself upon them?" </p><p>He raised an eyebrow at that. "Should I be?"Jaskier's jaw tremble and his eyes filled with more tears. "Dandelion." He said gently. He reached out and took the Bard's elbow, squeezing softly. Without another sound Jaskier hurled himself against the Witcher. He wrapped his arms around Geralt's neck and buried his bruised face in his neck. Geralt wrapped his arms around him, holding him as close as he could. </p><p>"You dont smell like them." Jaskier rasped out. "You don't smell like them. Please. Please. I need to forget." </p><p>"I cant make you forget." Geralt said evenly. "But I am here for you. I will help you through this."</p><p>Jaskier shook his head. He pulled back, his eyes cold and dark. "I don't think anyone can help me now." He pressed his forehead against Geralt's shoulder. The Witcher rubbed his back for a long moment.   </p><p>Jaskier was silent. Geralt helped him back to camp and unpacked another saddlebag. "Here, there's extra clothes in here if you feel up to it." He adjusted the blanket around the Bard, and left the saddle bag beside him. Jaskier gave him a slack nod. Geralt tried not to frown at how detached the Bard seemed. He quickly mixed a decoction for pain. "I'll just leave this here, if you need something for the pain later." He set the bowl down before the fire. "There's fresh water in the wineskin. I could get some onions and mushrooms, and brew a soup when I get back. Would you like that?"</p><p>Jaskier sighed, looking away. His head dropped limply against his shoulder. "Just go, Geralt." He didn't look at the Witcher when he spoke. </p><p>Everything in the Witcher screamed in warning that something was wrong. "Jask..." He asked softly. He knew the Bard's temperament was delicate. He knew his condition was fragile. He should stay. "I don't have to go, right now. I can stay." </p><p>Jaskier shook his head. "Go." </p><p>Geralt hesitated still. "Fuck...Jask...do you need to talk about it?" He was expecting the Bard to get angry. To order him away. To yell and scream and cry. Instead the Bard meagerly shook his head again. Still unconvinced that he should be leaving the Bard alone, Geralt knelt down in front of him. "Anything I can bring you now? Your lute?"</p><p>"I don't want it. Just get out of here, Geralt." He rolled unto his side away from the Witcher.  </p><p> The Witcher set his jaw and after a minute got up. "I won't be gone long." He promised, untying Roach.</p><p>Later that afternoon Geralt returned from the healer with several supplies. He couldnt get the conversation they had out of his head. "Rape healing is nasty business, Witcher. Better it come from someone he trusts." The man had recommended stronger decoctions for sleep and pain, and one to calm the Bard if he got too much in his head. "Better he's drugged for a bit, it will help him heal." He also insisted nothing but liquids for a few days. "If you put stitches in him, Witcher, you dont want him to shit until they come out." </p><p>"Jaskier?" The Bard was laying on his stomach by the fire, clothed in one of the Witcher's shirts that nearly fell off his slim frame and his extra set of trousers, because they were lose and the material didnt scrap. He looked up slowly when Geralt approached. "Hey." He settled himself down beside him. "How are you feeling?" Jaskier didn't respond. Geralt moved closer, noticing how pale the Bard's face was. There was a sheen of sweat across his forehead and his eyes were blown dark with dilated pupils. The Witcher raised an eyebrow, tearing his gaze from Jaskier to the ground beside the bedroll. There was a bowl laying on it's side, chipped as though it had been dropped. On reflect Geralt picked it up. "Did you take something?" He grabbed the Bard back the back of the shirt, lifting him closer. He brought the bowl closer and sniffed. The Witcher set his jaw. "Hemlock." He looked at Jaskier, his face twisted in pain. "Jaskier, no."</p><p>The bard collapsed into his arms, eyes open in a cold stare. </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Mitigate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Jaskier!" Geralt shook the bard roughly as he lowered him to the ground. His eyes were beginning to close and the Witcher growled, hearing the quiet hum of the Bard's heart begin to fade. "Fuck." He needed to mix a decoction and quickly, but he also needed to keep the Bard's heart beating. Gurgling sounds erupted from the Bard's mouth and Geralt could hear how choked his lungs had become, air unable to move.</p><p>"Shit." He swore between clenched teeth grabbing his bag with one hand and placing the other against Jaskier's chest. He rummaged through the bag one-handed as he tipped Jaskier's head backward and leaned forward, sealing his lips around the Bard's mouth and forcing air into his lungs.</p><p>By touch he knew the ingredients and pulled them out, setting them aside as he continued to force air into the Bard's lungs. He had to keep the air moving. The poison coursing through Jaskier's blood was causing them to constrict and prevent him from breathing on his own. The decoction would unbind them but it took a minute to brew. A minute Jaskier might not have. </p><p>He had to take the chance. He pushed in another breath and then pulled back, hurriedly mixing herbs with his hands before pouring in the liquid components. It turned the bowl's contents a sickly black color and the smell was enough to make Geralt want to vomit, but that was also the point. Hastily he yanked the limp Bard's shoulders up and pried his jaw open again, pouring the contents into his mouth and rubbing his throat to force it into his belly. </p><p>It took a few moments. He anguishly watched the sluggish rise and fall of the Bard's chest and then Jaskier's eyes shot open and he vomitted all over himself. Geralt grunted and rolled the bard to his side. He threw up again and began to cough and choke. The Witcher slapped his back, forgetting momentarily about his wounds and the bard cried out in agony before throwing up again. "Sorry." He muttered, rubbing his back. </p><p>Jaskier started to cry softly but his color morphed from grey to green. He threw up again but it seemed less violent then the previous explusions. He whimpered as Geralt rolled him over and dragged him up to rest against the log. "The Fuck, Jaskier?"  He muttered, pulling the vomit stained tunic off the Bard. Jaskier could only whimper in response. Geralt shook his head, casting the shirt aside. He'd soak it later and grabbed the extra blanket to keep the Bard warm.</p><p>"Let me see your back." He tipped him forward against his knee and examined the skin. Some of the wounds had reopened and bled through the bandages. "It was about time to change your bandages anyway." The Witcher muttered. He gently pushed him back against the log so he could gather his supplies. </p><p>"I..." Jaskier was crying fresh tears again. "I...'m sorry." Sobs wrecked his weakened form.  </p><p>"Damnit bard." Geralt pulled the man to his chest and rubbed his back as gently as he could. "I shouldnt have left you alone." He muttered. He ran his fingers through Jaskier's hair. </p><p>"Don't want me." Jaskier sniffed. "Broken."</p><p>Weak as he was he still tried to pull away, but Geralt stopped him. He forced the Bard to look him in his eye. "No, Jask. I will always want you." </p><p>Jaskier sniffed again. "Didnt earlier." </p><p>Geralt tried not to frown, remembering how Jaskier had thrown himself at him earlier. "Oh that's what you meant. Bard...you could barely let me hold your dick while you pissed." </p><p>Jaskied wiped his eyes. For once he had actually stopped crying. "...they still...theyre still...and youre not..." </p><p>Geralt cleared his throat. "You're not going to be ready for that for quite awhile. And I'm not going to put you through that until youre healed. I refuse to hurt you that way." He pressed his forehead against the Bard's. "And you dont need to do that because I'm not going to leave you or not want you. Right now all I want is for you to heal." The bard nodded, swallowing thickly and let himself relax into the Witcher's arms.  </p><p>Jaskier calmed down enough that Geralt could carefully pry away the old bandages from his back. He cleaned the welts with a damp cloth and coated the worst of them with the salve he'd gotten from the healer. The bard was mostly quiet, only a soft whine or wince here and there as Geralt tended to his back and then to his wrists. After a few minutes though he began to grow pale and sweat beaded his forehead. "Geralt..." He whined softly. "Please stop." Geralt was about to help the Bard lower his trousers when he sat back and saw how pallid he had become. Carefully he turned Jaskier to his side and held him still as the bard threw up again.</p><p>"Something in your stomach would help with that." Geralt rubbed the bard's back softly. "I'll start the soup. We'll continue after you eat." he started to pull away. </p><p>"No." He caught the Witcher's wrist. "I'll just throw it up again if you...do that...after I've eaten." Geralt sighed and then grabbed the wineskin and held it out to him. "Thanks." He drank a little bit of the water and his stomach rolled painfully for a moment before settling. He grimaced but after a moment nodded. "Okay." Geralt grabbed the pillow and handed it to the bard. He laid down on his stomach with the pillow under his pelvis. He shivered a little, letting his forehead fall unto his hands.  </p><p>"Okay?" Geralt asked, and he felt warm hands at his waistband. He knew the Witcher wasn't going to do anything without his consent now, but the situation still carried a modicum of force. He tried to tell himself it could be worse. The Witcher could have forced him to go to town, to see a healer, to be poked and prodded by a stranger that lacked Geralt's keen awareness of his emotional state. The fact he was not forcing him to accept healing from a stranger didn't comfort him as much it should, but nothing was exactly comforting at the moment. He had only limited control of his battered body. His control over his mind even less-so. Every time he closed his eyes he could see nothing but them. It was festering. It's what drove him to drink the hemlock, and he was still not totally convinced that dying wouldn't be easier. Geralt had saved his life, though, again, and that had to mean something. Finally he nodded, reaching back and patting the Witcher's thigh to let him know that he could continue. </p><p>Geralt hummed softly as he shucked Jaskier of his breeches. He needed to get the bard a new set of clothes. The wounds on the bard's backside were beginning to heal, the angry red of yesterday had faded some, but his first touch with the salve made the bard jump and hiss, indicating it was still quite painful. He coated both arsecheeks and thighs with the salve and then moved between them. Jaskier instantly tensed he moved his arsecheeks apart with his fingers. "Try to relax a little." He instructed. "I know it hurts, but I need to put the salve in and I don't want to tear your stitches." Jaskier whimpered softly, but his thighs fell slack. Geralt pushed in with the salve as gently as he could and withdrew. "All done." Jaskier whimpered again, a few tears escaping. He rubbed the bard's back again. "You'll be healed up in a few days." The Witcher promised. "Let's get that soup going."</p><p>The soup was bland, flavored with just mushrooms and onions, but it was hot and filled Jaskier's stomach. At first he worried he would just throw it all up again, but the hot liquid soothed the ache in his throat and his belly, and it stopped rolling so badly. Geralt washed their clothes in the river while he ate, and laid them next to the fire to dry. The Witcher was looking at the sky when he returned and glanced again at it as he poured soup for himself. "Rain tomorrow." He said morosely. "We're going to have to go into town."</p><p>Jaskier groaned softly. "I don't..." He began to protest but there was nothing for it. Walking would be painful, riding would be painful, but at this point sitting and sleeping were painful as well. And he was doing it on the ground, at least in town he'd have a bed. And a warm bath to soak in. The idea of a bath seemed wonderful to him right now. "Alright." He finally agreed. "As long as I can have a bath when we get to the inn." Geralt didn't hesitate to agree.          </p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Morose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Riding actually hurt more than walking, but it got them into town faster so Jaskier endured it. The pain was coming back in waves now, everything seeming to ache as he waited with Roach for Geralt to secure a room and a bath. He pulled Geralt's cloak tighter around himself, keeping his head down and thankful that the stable was fairly empty. Finally he heard the Witcher's footsteps and looked up to see him waiting. "That was quick." He remarked quietly, limping over to him. </p><p>"Inn's half empty. There was an outbreak of plague here a few weeks ago." The Witcher explained. He glanced at the bard. "Do you need to lean on me?" After a moment Jaskier nodded and Geralt wrapped an arm around his torso, pulling the bard along as they entered the Inn and went up the stairs. </p><p>The tub was already in their room and a maid was filling it when they entered. She didn't say anything as Geralt helped the Bard over to the bed, just continued to fill the tub. "I'll bring up another bucket in a little while, Master Witcher." She finally spoke. "Food will be ready in an hour. Would you like anything from the kitchen?" </p><p>"Soup if you have any." Geralt told her. He saw her eyes darting from him to Jaskier, but she just nodded and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her. </p><p>"I'm not hungry." Jaskier muttered, shucking the cloak and laying down on his side. He looked paler than he had in the early morning, and there was sweat on his brow. Geralt frowned, hesitantly reaching out and laying the back of his hand on the Bard's cheek. Jaskier shook him away. </p><p>"You're feverish." </p><p>Jaskier whimpered softly. He was beginning to feel it. The pain from the saddle seemed to spread down his entire body and suddenly he was simultaneously hot and freezing. "Geralt." He whimpered again. The Witcher got up and unpacked their medical supplies from the saddle bag. </p><p>"I need to look at your wounds." Geralt could smell the infection that was welling up in Jaskier's body, and he needed to see where it was. He helped the Bard get undressed and sat to work unbandaging and cleaning wounds with a cloth dipped into the bath water. "It's the stitches." He finally surmised, when he had cleaned all the other wounds.</p><p>Jaskier sobbed softly, moving unto his belly before Geralt could ask. Geralt frowned, reaching out and rubbing the Bard's shoulder. "I need to brew you a decoction for the infection. Let me also give you one for pain. If I make it strong enough you'll sleep right through this." Jaskier shook his head, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Jaskier...you have been so brave. Let me help you rest." The bard sniffed, acting like he was going to protest but after a moment he glanced at the Witcher over his shoulder and nodded lightly. Geralt reached out and brushed away more of the bard's tears with his thumb. "Let's get you in the bath while I brew the decoctions, yeah?" Jaskier nodded and Geralt lifted him up into his arms before settling him down into the tub.</p><p>The water touching his injuries made him wince slightly, but the water felt good and Jaskier found himself wanting to scrub his skin. Geralt riffled through their saddle bags until he found Jaskier's oils. "Rosemary and chamomile." He muttered, adding the oil to the bath water. "It will help with the swelling." The Witcher gently took the cloth Jaskier was using away. "Don't scrub so hard, you'll open your wounds." He dipped the cloth in the water and gently ran it over the Bard's back.</p><p>"Thank you." Jaskier muttered. Geralt could feel the Bard's muscles begin to relax. He handed the cloth back and went back to the saddle bags so he could mix the potions. The serving girl came up with soup before too much longer. She left it at the door, but Jaskier didn't miss the look of sympathy she gave him or the weary way she regarded Geralt. It made his stomach sink.</p><p>"Let's get you dry and then you should eat. The decoction for the infection will go down better if you've got something in your stomach." Jaskier was freezing the second Geralt helped him out of the bath. His fever, lessened somewhat by the tepid water came roaring back and he shook even as Geralt dried him off and wrapped him in the blanket from the bed. Thankfully Geralt didn't try to force too much soup down his throat, just a few good spoonfuls. He managed to drink it without much nausea, but he could feel it brewing in the back of his throat. "Here." Geralt passed him the bowl that held the potion for the infection. He drank it down as quickly as he could. It tasted horrible and bitter, and he gratefully accepted the wineskin Geralt passed him, trying to drown the taste with water. "Do you want to try another few spoonfuls of soup?" He glanced up at Geralt, and found no evidence that the Witcher would force him to drink it. He shook his head and the Witcher nodded, picking up the bowl that contained the decoction for pain. "You should be able to sleep in a few minutes. Don't try to fight it." The Witcher explained as he held the bowl to his lips. Jaskier drank down the potion and felt a warmth spread through him that made his limbs feel heavy. He muttered something but found his words slurring. Geralt helped him lay down on his side, shoving an pillow under his head and tucking the blanket around him. He closed his eyes, everything feeling suddenly very far away.</p><p> When he woke up Geralt was sitting by his side, his eyes focused on the Bard. When he saw him awake the Witcher smiled gently. "Hey." He placed a warm hand on his forehead. "Good, your fever broke. How do you feel?" </p><p>He shifted. There was a dull ache coming from his muscles, a little sharper around his wounds, especially his wrists and his arse, but nothing like it had been. The remnants of the fever left him feeling uncomfortably sweaty...moist for lack of a better word. "Can I have another bath?" He finally asked. </p><p>Geralt smiled, moving away to reveal the full bathtub by the fireplace. "Thought you might say that." He reached out and took his hand and shoulder to help him up. </p><p>It was pitch black outside, the only light coming from the array of candles lit in the room. Geralt was particularly generous with their use this time, he usually wasn't. He didnt need them to see in the dark. "Why all the candles?" He asked softly, letting the Witcher help him across the room into the bath.</p><p>Geralt grunted. "Thought you'd...want the light." </p><p>"Oh." He tried to smile, realizing he thought he'd be terrified in the dark. And honestly if he had woken up while Geralt was working on him, he probably would have been. He took a breath as he climbed into the tub, feeling the warm water bath his lingering injuries. "How bad?" He finally asked. </p><p>"I took the stitches out and had to wash out the infection." Jaskier winced, back arching. He had said wash though, not cut, which meant it wasn't as bad. "I mixed a decoction into the paste to numb the pain. No more stitches." He nodded. No stitches meant he was healing, however slowly and painfully. </p><p>They stayed at the Inn for three days before mutual restlessness got the better of both of them. Geralt was eager to return to the Path and Jaskier desperately needed to put more distance between himself and this place. </p><p>Jaskier had nightmares for the rest of the summer. Geralt would wake, roll over, and hold him close, his embrace enough to keep the Bard from crying out. He was much quieter in those months than Geralt had ever known him to be, and he rarely picked up his lute. It stayed in its case most days, strapped to Roach so that the strap wouldnt rub against Jaskier's back.</p><p>Time, it's said, heals all wounds. </p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Moving</h2></a>
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    <p>Summer turned to fall and eventually the trees stood naked and the air held the sharpness of winter's chill. Jaskier's lute remained untouched. His songs and words a distant memory. Geralt came to a decision. </p><p>"Come with me to Kaer Morhen." He muttered one morning, as he packed Roach. Jaskier looked up from rolling up his bedroll. There was a question in his eyes, and Geralt did his best to smile confidently. "You can rest there with me this winter. It's not exactly quiet, but it's..."</p><p>"Yes." Jaskier declared. "I will go with you." </p><p>For the next week as they rode for the blue mountains Jaskier demanded Geralt talk of nothing else but the keep. Jaskier wanted to hear every detail, and moreover he wanted to know about Vesemir and Geralt's brothers. The constant chatter was welcomed, the silence of the last few months soon forgotten. </p><p>Silence was not the only thing that seemed forgotten. One night, just days from the Keep Geralt returned with a dinner of wild rabbit to find Jaskier sitting by the fire with his lute case open in his lap. His fingers were stroking the strings lightly, dancing over them as though he was too nervous to strike them with any effort. "You should play." Geralt told him softly, sitting down to skin their dinner. </p><p>Jaskier sighed softly. "It wont sound good. I'm horribly out of practice." </p><p>"Well then you better play tonight, dont want my brothers to hear you out of practice." </p><p>The bard had laughed at that and finally picked up the lute. It did sound a bit out of tune, but only at first, by the end of dinner both it and Jaskier sounded like old times. Geralt leaned against the log, mixing a potion as Jaskier continued to play, until his eyes were heavy and he was ready to nod off. "Bedtime." The Witcher declared. </p><p>"Mmm." The bard put away his lute and tucked the case beside him. "Will you...uh...are you coming?" He questioned, eyeing the Witcher. Geralt hummed and got up, moving closer to the Bard. "Will you...will you hold me?" Geralt raised an eyebrow as he eased himself down on his bedroll and wrapped an arm around the bard. Jaskier wiggled in closer. "Will...will you kiss me?" The bard's voice was growing lower and Geralt grunted, leaning over to kiss his jaw. </p><p>"Anything else, bard?" He muttered into his ear. </p><p>"Will..." Jaskier voice was hoarse now. "Will you fuck me?" </p><p>"Are you sure?" He rumbled into his ear. The bard nodded. "Jask..." </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>Geralt sank his finger into him, watching Jaskier's face closely. The bard closed his eyes and moaned quietly, urging the Witcher to continue. "Okay?" The Witcher leaned forward, kissing the Bard softly as he moved his finger within him, stretching him as slowly and gently as he could. Jaskier nodded, moaning again. Geralt peppered his jaw and neck with kisses as he continued the stretch, eventually pushing in a second finger. </p><p>"Geralt." Jaskier panted, his eyes widening as sweat began to bead on his forehead. The Witcher immediantly stilled his fingers. "No...keep going." He latched unto Geralt's arm to keep him from pulling his fingers out. The Witcher nodded, resuming his ministrations. </p><p>By the time he was up to four fingers Jaskier was panting, sweating and begging for release. "Please fuck me." The bard begged. "Please." His cock was swollen and needy. Geralt chuckled, placing a kiss on the weeping head that had Jaskier moaning. "Geralt, please!" </p><p>The Witcher glanced up at him, hummed and then gently pulled his finfers out. "We'll try, Jask, but if it starts to hurt or if you feel uncomfortable, we're stopping." He told him firmly as he slicked his cock with oil. He gave him a quick squeeze, just to slow himself down. He parted Jaskier's arsecheeks and pushed his cock against the tight hole. Jaskier gasped and writhed, urging him on. He worked the head in past the rim and thrush gently, swallow strokes to start, just to warm the Bard up. Jaskier was moaning, fisting the sheets, throwing his head back against the pillow as he begged for more.</p><p>"Geralt, please! Deeper...please." His hoarse voice broke into a near sob. Geralt stilled his hips, leaning down to kiss the bard. "Please." </p><p>"Alright." Geralt grabbed his hips with both hands. He inched deeper for a moment and pulled back, just to get Jaskier used to the feeling as he worked his way inside him. After a few moments he pushed in deep, pulling the Bard flush against him. </p><p>"Fuck! Move!" Jaskier demanded, pushing his own again forward.Geralt chuckled, pulling the Bard up against his chest and rocking into him. Jaskier moaned scrambling for Geralt's lips. He kissed back and thrust a little harder, beginning to build a pace. </p><p>Jaskier winced and quietly began to sob. Geralt halted his thrusts abruptly and looked down at Jaskier. "Jask..." He touched the bard's face. "Does this hurt?" Tears spilling down his face the bard nodded. "We're stopping." The Witcher grunted softly as he pulled out. The bard weakly protested, sniffling with a sob. "I'm not going to hurt you." He leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. </p><p>Jaskier sobbed in frustration. "But I WANT to." He shook his head, wiping quickly at his face. Geralt wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. Jaskier moaned softly as the Witcher's erection bumped against his thigh. "I want to." He grunted, reaching for his cock. Geralt moaned softly as Jaskier palmed his cock. </p><p>"I have an idea." He grabbed the oil and poured some on his hand before reaching between the Bard's legs. He coated his inner thighs with the oil before rolling him into his side. He leaned forward and kissed his neck before reaching down and lifting one pale thigh up. The Witcher slid his cock into the space and then squeezed the Bard's thighs together. Jaskier moaned softly, reaching down to squeeze the hand Geralt had on his thigh and gasped as he began to move. He moaned again again the slide of the Witcher's cock. With every thrust Geralt's cock rubbed against his balls and he found himself writhing, hard and leaking. </p><p>"Oh shit." Jaskier panted. "I...I..." He moaned. "This...Please...please just finish inside me. I need you inside me." He tried to look over at Geralt. The Witcher stilled himself again. "Please. Shallow if you must, but please do this for me." </p><p>Geralt sighed softly, kissing Jaskier's shoulder. "We're doing it like this, then, where I can't push in too deeply." He muttered into the Bard's shoulder. Another quick kiss and he lifted the Bard's thigh again. He adjusted his hips, rubbing the head of his cock against Jaskier's slick arsehole. "Deep breathe." He muttered. Jaskier obeyed and the Witcher worked his cock back inside, just the head popped through the Bard's rim. Jaskier was panting again, giving up and finally palming his own cock. Geralt placed a kiss into his shoulder blade as he gave a light thrust. </p><p>He kept his pace slow and measured, letting Jaskier do the work. The Bard tugged his own cock, moaning loudly as he worked himself to release. When he felt the Bard get close he gave a few quicker though still shallow thrusts, working himself to climax as the Bard spilled, walls tightening around the head of his cock. The Witcher grunted, pushed in just a measure deeper and let his own orgasm spill into Jaskier. </p><p>The bard moaned triumphantly, scrambling for the Witcher's hands, pressing himself back against Geralt even as he pulled out. "Thank you." He muttered as Geralt bent over him. He picked his head up, wanting another kiss and the Witcher obliged, kissing him deeply and roughly.</p><p>"Stay." The bard whimpered when Geralt pulled away. </p><p>Geralt chuckled, working his arm out of Jaskier's hold. "I'm just going to clean us up." He promised, getting up to get some water and a rag. </p><p>"Thank you." Jaskier mumbled as Geralt cleaned the spend from his body. "Thank you for tonight." Geralt gave him a light smile and a nod. "Will you..." </p><p>"I will." Geralt muttered, leaning down to kiss him. "I always will."</p>
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